You’re going to play along with John’s little game. No way are you going to have your wife parade around at work dressed like some cheap tart. You walk over to Rachel’s wardrobe and rummage through it finally finding the most conservative dress you can find.

“I choose this one!” you declare in defiance.

“I’m not sure John had that in mind when he meant ‘appropriate,’ Ross,” Rachel says looking at you, clearly surprised. She walks over, takes the dress from you and hangs it on the wardrobe door. With that, she quickly changes into her PJ’s, and heads into the bathroom. “I’m having an early night.”

You shrug and head back into the kitchen to grab a beer, pleased with yourself. You spend most of the night drinking, and thinking about what just happened. Eventually you can’t take it anymore and pull your phone out and look at the picture of your wife sucking John’s cock. She’s enjoying it — even with her mouth stretched wide you can see from her eyes that she’s smiling into the camera.

The jealousy starts to rise as you see how much of it she has in her mouth, Rachel never goes that deep for you, mainly sucking on the knob and using her hand. Staring at the pictures, you slowly you take your dick out and start stroking. Within seconds you groan and cum into your fist, your eyes closed with the image of Rachel’s pretty cock-filled face burned onto the insides of your eyelids as you pass out.

You wake up the next morning to the sounds of Rachel moving about the house.

“Probably for the best, honey. You need to rest up and think about your choice,” replies Rachel, stepping back into the room.

You notice she’s wearing the dress you chose last night — high neck-line and down to her ankles. She lifts the hem to show you a pair of flat shoes. “In your absence I thought these were appropriate.” She walks out the door.

Smiling at the thought of ruining John’s plan to have your wife tottering about work looking like some cheap slut, you collapse back onto the couch and fall asleep.

You awake to the sound of your phone buzzing. Disorientated by the dark room you reach out and pick it up from the floor where it fell last night. As you thumb open the text message, looking at the time you notice its 7PM.

Rachel: Oh! I do, but the guys are confused. They’re used to seeing a bit of leg and tit! She’s a popular girl you know. Gotta go!

You slump back into the couch, shaking your head. It’s true that Rachel doesn’t hide her body, and you do enjoy peeking down her top or at her legs as you commute to work. It’s not like she shows herself off outrageously, although it doesn’t surprise you that she’s popular at work. You slowly get to your feet. What do you do? Go and find your wife, or just wait for her to return?

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